


Take Me

by 1JettaPug, orphan_account



Category: KISS (US Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Jealousy, M/M, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Pool Sex, Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-03-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:27:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23337631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1JettaPug/pseuds/1JettaPug, https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Paul gets a new idea from a magazine, and Peter is more than willing to oblige. However, someone catches them in the act and almost divulges a secret.
Relationships: Peter Criss/Paul Stanley (KISS)
Kudos: 17





	Take Me

There was nothing inherently wrong with admiring the shining body of a twenty year old woman, an attractive young thing with her entire life stretched broad and full before him on a silver platter. She looked beautiful and careless and wicked and radiant, but she existed only on page 14 of his copy of Playboy.

Against all logic, it only made Peter want to grab a piece of her even more. Wanting, he had learned, was a fool’s desire with guaranteed possibilities for soul-crushing heartbreak. Groupies were perfect for what he wanted. Fuck them and leave them, no strings attached. Wives? Well… he and Ace were learning about that stress more and more with each passing year.

It was unfortunate that broads were so fragile. He grew bored of them. Nine inches of pleasure he had to offer them, but they eventually found a reason to yell at him. They couldn’t accept his mannerisms, lifestyle, or his tendency to freelance.

At least it hadn’t gone that way with his current lover. For quite a while now, he had himself a curly-haired beauty in the palm of his hands. Long legs dangled from the bed as the stunning figure laid across his lap with a soft, yet toned, outline. A thumb was being dragged down a shiny tongue and helped flick across the magazine in those speedy, skilled hands.

“You know you’re like ten years older than any girl in that magazine.” It was said with such a snarky, jealous tone, and although Peter knew what he was saying was true, it didn’t stop him from enjoying the content in the slightest.

“Shut up, Paulie, I’m just reading it for the articles…”

“The articles? _Sure_.”

Peter rolled his eyes. Paul was a real brat when he wanted to be.

“101 ways a man can please you…” Paul read from the front of his Cosmopolitan magazine. He’d gone through every celebrity magazine and every newspaper the hotel had provided, but this one really caught his interest. The Starchild didn’t think he needed sex or love advice, especially since he was considered a sex icon himself, but it never hurt to look and share anything he learned with his skeptical bandmate.

“I can please you in _102_ ways, Paulie.” Peter scoffed, radiating confidence and almost ignoring the younger man’s chattering. A virgin probably wrote that bullshit, he thought.

“How to get more out of sex...” The guitarist read the next page, completely absorbed and fascinated by some of the suggestions. “Change up the location… the bathroom, the kitchen, on the stairs… in the _pool?”_ He cocked an eyebrow, confused yet surprisingly intrigued.

“The pool?” Peter echoed, looking over his Playboy at Paul’s magazine. “Huh… What the hell will they come up with next?”

“Oh, you hush,” Paul swatted his arm. “That’s actually a pretty good idea. It helps break the repetition of just banging on the bed… on the tour bus… in a gas station bathroom…”

“I dunno what you’re complainin' about. That’s three locations right there, Paulie.”

“Peter… That’s _all_ we ever do.”

“...What? Are you trying to tell me something?” The Catman murmured, his voice turning teasingly low, feeling Paul’s chocolate brown eyes running up and down his torso.

Paul nodded, his black curls bouncing against Peter’s bell bottoms ever so eagerly and weightless. The magazine in his hands fell to his side as he arched his back off the bed and shifted himself to straddle Peter’s lap. The drummer grunted, feeling the lightweight that was Paul trying to press down on him. He threw his Playboy on the floor, giving his full attention to a beauty worth his time and energy.

“We should go swimming in the pool.” Paul’s plump lips pulled back into an excited grin.

“What? Right now?”

“Yeah, right now. Everyone’s already in bed for the night, so we’ll have the pool _alllll_ to ourselves.”

Peter’s initial reaction was to protest, but the wires in his brain connected and sparked at the idea of Paul in a tight speedo. It quickly helped chip away at any inhibitions he may have had at being caught or grudges about moving from his comfy bed.

“Mm... Fine. You have to carry the towels and change of clothes for us, though.” Peter hummed as his hands snaked their way down to grab at Paul’s hips. His thumbs hooked into the pockets of his jeans and slowly began to pull them downward, revealing that lovely red thong he’d bought him last week. He swore if he’d kept staring at it any longer, they wouldn’t even make it to the pool.

“Papa…” Paul giggled, his cheeks turning pink when he felt two hands grab his ass and squeeze. He climbed off the bed to change into his speedo as Peter reached over to the nightstand for a joint and lighter. “You gonna share that?” The frontman collected two robes and towels, a hand on his hip as he watched his lover smoke on the bed.

“Nope.” Peter laughed.

“ _Peter_.”

“Alright, alright. C’mere, baby.” He held the joint out to place between Paul’s lips, lighting it with the other hand. He inhaled deeply before blowing the smoke out in a long, quiet exhale. His long lashes batted down at Peter, a small smile appearing on the drummer’s face. He was so in love. There was no doubt about it. The Starchild was no match for any of the ladies in his Playboy, and Peter felt like the luckiest man in the world.

“Ya think the pool will still be open?” Paul handed the joint back before heading over to the window to peek out the blinds. Naturally, he’d insisted for a room with a view of the pool, leaving Gene and Ace with cheaper, less extravagant accommodations. The pool area looked abandoned, as he’d hoped, but that didn’t mean the gate to it wasn’t locked.

“Who the fuck cares? We’ll climb over the fence.” In a matter of seconds, the drummer was off the bed and heading for the door. It seemed excitement had taken over, not just for the sex, but for the risk of getting caught in the act.

The pool being closed soon turned out not to be the couple’s only hurdle, though. Almost immediately after leaving the room, Peter came face to face with the bassist, towering over him with folded arms and a blank expression.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He asked in his deep, monotone voice. Peter was always up to no good, a path of destruction constantly in his wake. He was becoming a bad influence on Paul, too, who stood behind the smaller man looking like a deer caught in headlights.

“None of your business, Frankenstein.”

“The pool…” Paul answered, showing Gene the towels in his arms.

“The pool, huh?” Gene asked him, his nose twitching as he stepped closer to them. He sniffed before narrowing his eyes directly at Peter. “Is… Is that what I think it is?”

“What? My cologne? Sure, probably.” Peter shrugged, shifting the rest of the joint around in his hand behind him. “I ain’t sharin’ with your smelly ass, though.”

The bassist bared his teeth, puffing up at the on going jab Ace and Peter both kept throwing his way. Luckily, Paul saw him about to get defensive, and he grabbed Peter’s arm, pulling him along.

“Peter… The pool. C’mon.”

“Yeah…” Peter growled, giving Gene some side eye. “We got better things to do than lurk the hallways like a fuckin’ vampire.”

“You’re gonna get us kicked out.” The Demon watched in disapproval as his bandmates headed for the elevator, Peter flipping him off.

“Don’t bite nobody’s neck while we’re gone!” He called as the doors closed. Paul giggled, unable to wipe the smile off his face as he leaned into Peter’s strong hold on his waist. He, too, was quickly becoming excited by the thought of Peter making love to him in a public pool, the mental image of the drummer’s hands gripped tightly onto his hips as he pounded in and out him beneath the cool water…

The humid Florida air hit the two men as they exited the elevator, sweat already beginning to form on their foreheads. How they’d managed to play a show here in full costume and makeup and survive the heat, they’d never know. Not to mention Ace almost losing his life after being electrocuted during their last performance...

Walking down the sidewalk, a sly smirk played on Paul’s lips as his eyes skimmed over the drummer’s backside. He reached for Peter’s ass, pinching it before running ahead and giggling hysterically.

“Ah, shit!” Peter laughed, “You’re gonna pay for that, you cheeky fuck!” He chased after the guitarist who had already reached the pool and thrown the towels aside. Paul wasted no time stripping himself of his speedo and diving in the deep end, swimming to the surface and shaking his wet curls out with a relieved smile. Just the sight of the Starchild soaking wet sent a shot of arousal to Peter’s cock.

“Oh, so we’re gettin’ naked now?” He asked, finally reaching the pool area. Not that he had a problem with it. In fact, he’d been _hoping_ for it.

Paul only giggled in response, watching as Peter stepped out of his red speedo, almost drooling as his half-erect spoiler sprang free. It had only increased in size from excitement, and _god_ , all Paul wanted was to have it in his mouth, then his ass.

Butterflies fluttered in the frontman’s stomach as Peter sat on the edge of the pool. He beckoned Paul over with a finger, grabbing his cock with his free hand while he smoked the rest of the joint with the other. Paul knew where this was heading. His papa always loved a bit of foreplay, from making out to soft touching to a full on blowjob, and he was pretty sure which Peter was in the mood for tonight as the moon shone down on them.

Paul swam over, holding on to Peter’s thighs as he gently kissed up them, stopping when he reached the drummer’s balls to look up at him with his big, sad eyes. He knew the look that drove the Catman crazy. Dreamy, brown orbs half-lidded and lustful, plump, pink lips exposing his two front teeth… Peter was sure he could get off just admiring his beauty.

He was almost hypnotized as Paul leaned in and gave his tip a single lick, as if he were taste-testing a lollipop, only this, in Paul’s opinion, was much, much sweeter. Precum began to leak from the slit, and the frontman’s eyes lit up at the delectable sight. He licked his lips before going back in, sliding Peter’s cock all the way to the back of his throat with ease before creating a suction and slowly pulling back off.

The drummer threw his head back with a loud, breathy moan, one hand reaching down to grab Paul’s wet hair and direct his head movement.

“F- Fuuu… fuck it, this was an amazing idea…” He accepted defeat, Paul smiling victoriously around his length. “Jesus, Paulie, you little slut… Papa’s dirty boy…”

The guitarist enjoyed having his lover in his mouth, there was no doubt about it, but he couldn’t wait until Peter was in the pool with him, spooning him from behind, kissing and licking his neck, balls deep and making him squeal.

“Beautiful…”

Paul blushed, feeling the drummer’s eyes bare down on him. His mouth was so warm compared to the water dripping down his cheeks, and Peter could feel the tension building up in his belly as Paul’s nose rubbed against him. The Starchild swallowed once, twice, three times, then whined as Peter’s hands dug into his hair and yanked hard.

“Mmm… C’mon, don’t be such a bitch, kitten. I know you can handle a little rough lovin’.” He assured him, forcing him back down his shaft. “Take it all...”

Paul huffed, pulling back and pouting against the slippery head, wanting nothing more than a little gentle touch. Peter wasn’t in the mood for it. He growled, placing his twitching fingers against Paul’s skull, guiding him back on. The full length, large enough to make Paul’s jaw ache as he took it, throbbed against his lips and palate.

Unsurprisingly, it didn’t take very long for the drummer to finish. It never did when Paul was involved. His hips jerked up as he neared his edge, moaning one of Paul’s many nicknames before tensing, his lover’s mouth filling with the salty sweet taste of his semen.

Paul swallowed, most of the warm fluid smoothly running down his throat while the rest spilled out around the corners of his mouth. He only pulled back when Peter’s fingers relaxed on his scalp.

Paul wiped at what had dribbled down his chin. He went to speak, but was silenced by Peter tilting himself over and pulling him into the filthiest kiss of his life. He could taste himself on the frontman’s tongue, and it just about drove him crazy.

“Still want me to fuck you, baby?” He asked, pulling back and resting his forehead gently against Paul’s.

“Mmmh… Please.” Paul closed his eyes, mouth slightly ajar as he attempted to catch his breath. He suddenly forgot all about mentioning the unneeded roughness, the passionate kiss that Peter initiated seeming to sway his thoughts into the right romantic mood again.

With a small splash, the drummer was in the pool with him, reaching up for Paul’s wet curls and chuckling. He brushed the fringe out of his dark eyes, getting lost in them as they sparkled in the moonlight. His hands sank below the water’s surface, carding his fingers through the extensive amount of hair on Paul’s chest.

Paul bit the inside of his cheek to stifle the moan that so desperately wanted to escape, but suddenly, Peter’s face was so close to his, his warm breath fanning over his wet cheeks.

“Don’t hold back too much...” He whispered, the first hint of stubble dragging against Paul’s skin, until he could reach his lips. “I wanna hear you...”

A small moan actually made it past Paul’s lips this time when Peter pressed their bare chests together. He wriggled against the smaller man, wrapping his arms around Peter’s shoulders in anticipation.

“What if someone hears us?” The rhythm guitarist asked, throwing away that miniscule feeling of fear in favour of his lust. He tilted his head just a bit closer to the drummer, trembling in the water as he felt his lover’s obvious arousal against his thigh. “We’ll be outed…” That was the last thing he needed, _either of them_ needed, and he didn’t know how he could live with himself if his secret became public knowledge...

“Fuck that, baby. Fuck ‘em. No one knows it’s us. No one knows we’re KISS. They’ll just see two men foolin’ around.” Peter whispered, his cheek pressed close to Paul’s. “Now… Quit talkin’ like that, I don’t wanna hear it. I just wanna hear your moans when I touch you. I just wanna hear you scream my name when you cum.”

Paul shivered, heat suddenly spreading over his front as Peter’s hands landed on his ass, rubbing the hard muscle he encountered there. “Cold, baby?” He whispered against his bandmate’s neck, the tip of his tongue dabbing at the soft, wet skin.

The Starchild whimpered with a nod, closing his eyes as Peter thrust his erection against his crotch. He cried out, but the noise was swallowed by Peter’s mouth. It felt so damn good, and his body was running hot in the cool water, feeling like it could combust at any moment.

“Oh, baby… you make me feel… _ah_ … yeah...!” The Catman planted kisses up his neck, becoming hungrier with each one, his large hands grabbing at Paul’s ass and thighs. Encouraged by Paul’s whimpers, he flipped their position to stand behind the taller man, gripping tightly onto his hips.

“Oh, Peter… Just take me… anyway you want me…” Paul held onto the edge of the pool with both hands, bending over slightly, ready to take whatever the drummer was going to give to him. “Break me, papa…”

As much as Peter loved hearing his lover beg, he couldn’t wait any longer. Sure, having the guitarist suck him off was nice, but nothing, _nothing_ felt quite like their bodies becoming one, claiming him while whispering sweet nothings and dirty little secrets in his ear, reducing him down to pathetic whimpers and moans all by his hand.

Paul immediately lost himself in the feeling of Peter’s fingers fucking into him and stretching him open. They skillfully pressed and crooked in every direction, making Paul gasp and moan obscenely. He whined when the fingers soon pulled away, his rim clenching on nothing and his hole feeling so empty without them.

“ _Paaaapa_ …!”

“Hush, kitten.”

Paul looked over his shoulder when nothing happened for what felt like forever to see Peter stroking his cock underwater to the sight of him, spread bare for Peter’s eyes alone. He wanted to pout, wanted to cry, but he could only blush and let him do as he pleased.

Eventually, Peter firmly grabbed himself, struggling to position the head at Paul’s entrance due to the water pressure, but he remained persistent, managing to guide his tip in with a jerk of his hips.

“ _P- Peter!”_

He inched in slowly, enjoying every little cry from Paul as he filled him up, stretching him and fitting like a puzzle piece. Paul was red in the face and gasping, sinking back into that familiar fullness accompanied by a less familiar feeling of water.

At this point, the Catman would usually ask if the guitarist was ready for him to start thrusting, but arousal and the rush of getting caught seemed to cloud Peter’s mind. Paul was suddenly jolting forward as his lover rocked back and forth, snapping his hips at a wild pace.

“Ah… _a- ah!_ Peter! S- Slow down!” He lisped, water splashing his face from Peter’s intense movement. Sex in the pool may have sounded fun, but maybe it wasn’t a good idea after all, Paul thought. Peter was just too excited.

Taking the hint, the drummer reduced his speed until he was thrusting upward every few seconds, and Paul sighed in relief.

“Who’s papa’s filthy lil’ slut?” Peter asked, “Huh? Lemme hear you, Paulie.”

“M- me!” The frontman cried, squeezing his eyes shut and opening his mouth when he felt Peter graze his sweet spot. The fear of people hearing had quickly been taken over by pure bliss. “ _Ah!_ Oh god, _me!”_

Not even the clang of a beer bottle on the concrete broke the two men from their heaven, a tall, slender man suddenly spotting them from behind the bushes. Ace simply blinked at the sight of his bandmates in the distance, backing behind a tree to further observe.

“Is that… Paulie?” He whispered drunkenly to himself, “And Peter?” Surprise soon turned to jealousy, and Ace found one of his hands balling up into a fist. He didn’t see it as his fault for not confessing his feelings to Paul, he just wanted to beat the absolute shit out of the drummer for doing it first and taking the score.

The celestial felt his pants tighten as he watched Paul continuously bounce up and down in the water, moaning Peter’s name and begging for him to go faster and harder. He’d only dreamed of making Paul feel that way himself, and seeing someone else in his place, where _he_ should be, was agonizing to say the least.

“That fucker ain’t half the lover I am.” Ace scoffed, unaware he was talking to himself. “Fuckin’ _my_ Paulie…” Completely unconcerned about possible witnesses, he unzipped his jeans and began to stroke himself in time with Peter’s rhythm, eyes glued to the Starchild as he remained hidden behind the tree.

“Oh, Papa… _hah_ … _a- ah!”_

Peter suddenly pulled out and flipped Paul so his back was against the edge of the pool, the guitarist’s eyes half-closed and dazed, panting and rock hard under the water. “Gotta see ya, Paulie…” Peter wrapped his lover’s legs around his waist, “Gotta see your face when I cum in you…”

Ace watched as the Catman re-penetrated Paul, thrusting upward even harder to reach the rhythm guitarist’s prostate. Paul whined every time, reaching down to pump his own cock pressed up against his stomach.

“P- Peter... I’m so close, daddy…”  
  
“I know, I know...” He agreed, melting against Paul’s lips in a passionate kiss. The water swirled around them as Peter fucked up into Paul and traded sloppy kisses back and forth with him. His fingers, aching from his hard grip, found their way back to where they were joined, pressing delicately at Paul’s rim.

“G- God, Peter, _please_ …! Please never stop!” The Starchild panted as he ground down, Peter’s cock twitching inside him. The slow burn that had been building in his groin was starting to flare, and he began to frantically work his dick, water splashing around them as he bounced up and down.

"Fuck me, Peter! _Ah!_ Fuck me good!"

The surging, rushing sensation of the water as it sucked in and out of his ass along with the drummer’s cock, his hand tugging at his own member, and Peter’s other hand sliding up and down Paul’s body… The burn rose up and consumed Paul, and he spilled into the water with a loud whine of his lover’s name.

" _PETERRR!"_

He melted, falling forward onto the drummer before whispering in his ear, “Cum for me, Papa… Cum in your little whore.” Peter bit back a deep groan and gave him a few more hard, fast thrusts, his hips jerking almost violently as he came with a shudder.

“F- fuck! Holy shit!”

Peter soon opened his eyes as they breathed heavily into each other’s faces, Paul nuzzling into his cheek. “Hey…”

“Hey, kitten…” Peter smirked, leaning in to capture his lips. “Be a doll and go get Papa another joint, huh?”

With another kiss, Peter slipped out of his lover, watching him climb out of the pool to grab a towel. “Gotta cute little ass.” He chuckled. “Surprised ya can walk after that.”

Paul giggled, giving himself a spank before pulling on one of the robes. “I’ll be right back, Papa.” He blew a kiss and headed back toward the hotel.

“Don’t take too long, angel.” Peter called, floating on his back to watch the stars. They seemed so far away, but with Paul by his side, he always had one to call his own.

The Starchild yawned, stretching his arms as he passed by the bushes and trees. He couldn’t believe they’d gotten away with that. It was so thrilling, so naughty, and surely this had only planted more wicked ideas in Peter’s head.

Paul narrowed his eyebrows. Maybe it was his imagination. He stopped abruptly, double-taking and walking backward. Was that…?

“... _Ace?”_

“I would say ‘get a room,’ but you already have a hotel room.” Ace muttered, voice flat with a slurring edge. He could hardly look at the frontman. Jealousy had completely consumed him.

“...H- how much did you see?”

“Enough.”

Paul bit his lip and looked down, suddenly feeling guilty. Ace simply shrugged at him.

“I-”

“No, no. Don’t say nothin’.” Ace shook his head, “But you know, I was coming over to invite you guys back to the bar for a lil’ nightcap, but consider the offer rescinded.”

“A- Ace… I... What do you-”

“G’night, Paulie.” Ace turned on his heel and stalked off in the direction he had come.

“Ace…” Paul weakly held his hand out towards him, then pulled it back to his chest. That cold look felt like a slap across the face coming from such a jovial guy like the Spaceman, and it made Paul want to cry.

Joint in hand, the rhythm guitarist returned to the pool, sitting on the edge to let his legs dangle in the water. How could such a perfect night be ruined just like that? Peter swam over to him, holding onto his knees and kissing one gently.

“Where’s the lighter, Paulie?” He noticed the joint lying on the ground by itself. He also noticed the crushed look on his lover’s face, how his big brown eyes were welling up as he looked up at the sky. He knew better than to ask. He didn’t want to set him off and make him cry. He _hated_ seeing Paul cry.

“Forget it. Don’t worry about it.” Peter climbed out of the pool before dressing in the other robe, lying down on one of the lounge chairs and patting his lap.

Paul sniffed and stood up. He forced the tears back, so hurt and confused, at a loss for why Ace had acted like that. It was almost as if he were envious…

Paul climbed into Peter’s lap, quickly falling asleep as the Catman stroked his hair. He didn’t know what had suddenly upset Paul after such a wonderful night, but whoever had messed with him would definitely regret it. He glanced over at where Ace was stood. He’d make sure of it.


End file.
